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Why I Am A Hardened Feminist

People have often accused me of being an unreasonable feminist. Who knows, maybe they are right. Maybe I hold the flag of feminism too high or carry it too far. Perhaps beyond all reasonable limits. I admit I simply cannot bear it when someone speaks ill of a woman. It is the one thing that makes my blood boil and makes me see red. Yesterday, I had a heated argument with a couple of youngsters in my office regarding women's entry into the Sabarimala temple. They were of the view that public opinion has to be taken into account before deciding on such issues.

I almost exploded with anger in the office. In fact, we were requested to lower our voices by HR as the argument got heated and things began getting quite irascible and unmanageable. Let me state that as far as I am concerned, I still support women's entry into the Sabarimala temple. But setting aside the Sabarimala issue, let me try and explain why I am such a vehement feminist. First of all, I would like to state that I have had a very chequered and difficult life. The reason I am still standing on my two feet today is because of the support of the women in my life.

In my initial years as a teenager and a young man, it was my mother who was my pillar of strength and stood by my side through thick and thin. My younger sister was always there for me in very difficult times and I often sought her advice. She has been another great source of strength. After marriage, the baton of taking care of me has been passed on to my wife. And now my twelve-year-old daughter has joined my wife. My father has always been there but mainly it has been the women in my life who have held me together.

I hope that explains the reason for my being such a hardened supporter of women’s rights to the critics of my feminist harangues. I am taking this opportunity to re-blog a couple of poems that I wrote earlier this year. Reading these poems would perhaps explain to people my reasons for being a feminist. One poem was written as an ode to my mother on her seventy-eighth birthday. The second poem was written for my wife when we were going through very tough times in our lives.

To Dearest Amma On Her Birthday

Amma, everyone says I take after you in looks and brains,

I am very proud I am like you and was born to you,

I am proud that you are my mother and my mentor,

you are the woman who has touched my heart since I was a baby,

even now when I wake up from dark dreams, thinking of you comforts me.

I remember my early childhood days in Chennai,

when you would teach me Maths, Science, Hindi and English,

patiently correcting the million mistakes I would make,

never losing your temper for even a minute,

always smiling and always ready to teach me once more.

I remember the days when you used to take me to movies,

sometimes even buying tickets in black so that I would be happy,

I remember you coming home from the office every day,

with a pastry for your son from the nearby bakery,

not missing out on that even on a single day.

When I passed the IIT entrance examination,

you proudly announced it to all our family and friends.

I felt wonderful that for once you and appa,

could be proud of their irascible son,

who was so difficult to manage.

Every time I try to tell you what you mean to me,

how much I love you and how well you have taken care of me,

during my long bouts of illness when darkness enveloped my life,

you just brush it aside with a shrug of your shoulders and tell me,

that you just did what every mother would do for her child.

There have been times when I have made you feel very bad,

yelling at you because of my beastly temper which I could never control,

you always tolerated it and folded me in your comforting arms.

When I cried in dejection and faced failure at every front,

it was you, my dear amma, who held my hand and consoled me.

I remember our trips to interviews for years and years,

I would finish the interview and during our return journey by train,

I would go to a different compartment and smoke cigarettes,

and you would wait for a long time and then come to check on me,

fool that I was, I would show my wrath on you.

There have been times when I have been an angry son,

who failed to listen to you and defied your wise words,

but every time I came back to you with my tail between my legs,

you have embraced me warmly and welcomed me with open arms,

and helped me pick up the threads of my shattered life.

Amma, when you had to be operated upon,

you did not tell me because you felt I would get distracted,

none of us were there to take you to the hospital,

brave woman that you are, you went alone and got admitted to the hospital,